


Rotten Peaches

by ragnarok89



Category: Bishoujo Senshi Sailor Moon | Pretty Guardian Sailor Moon, 闇の末裔 | Yami No Matsuei | Descendants of Darkness
Genre: Alternate Universe - Dark, Ambiguous/Open Ending, Crossover, Crossover Pairings, Dubious Consent, F/M, Halloween, Horror, Implied Sexual Content, Non-Consensual Kissing, Non-Consensual Touching, One Shot, Psychological Drama, Temptation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-01
Updated: 2015-11-01
Packaged: 2018-04-29 07:40:47
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 739
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5120399
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ragnarok89/pseuds/ragnarok89
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Oneshot. She knew those dark eyes were familiar. Warning: sexual situations with dubious consent.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Rotten Peaches

**Author's Note:**

> This fic was written in the darker and more twisted spirit of this holiday– Happy Halloween!

Hotaru Tomoe knew that he wasn’t to be trusted, from those who called him an angel soon fell dead at his feet.

Muraki Kazutaka…

When Hotaru told others that she had seen him do odious things, no one believed her. But she had to keep going on the dark path. Her shirt was torn open, blood painted the side of her mouth, her wrists barred down by an unknown force, and she struggled to get up from the ground, but his hand held her down by the throat.

She knew those dark eyes were familiar.

She growled softly, surprised that a noise belonging to a beast arose from her, but she didn’t care at the moment.

She was pushed to her limits, being the Sovereign of Silence, a cruel demon controlling her body and mind, and seeing hearts that were blackened with hate and lust. Muraki, the so-called good doctor, was a wolf in sheep’s clothing, and he did not deny such a thing. His true intentions held roots like a great oak, spreading down, out, and far, tainting everything in its path.  

Muraki’s hand soon trailed up from her neck to her face, his fingertips slowly and painfully grazing her flesh, her mouth, eyes, and forehead. The mark of Saturn appeared on her forehead, burning her skin, and Hotaru jolted, her form shuddering in pain and…dare she say….eagerness.

Muraki did not waver, no, he was too fascinated by her. His face broke into a smile, tinged with curiosity and muted hunger.

“Just as I thought, Soldier of Saturn, this is quite an achievement, for you and for humankind. Surely you must hear the voices of fools burning in your mind, correct? The people you have struck down like a deity, like the goddess that you truly are?”

“Muraki…you--” Hotaru uttered, narrowing her eyes, but the doctor shushed her lightly, pressing a finger on her lips. She felt herself swallow from his touch.

“You are too pretty to be human,” Muraki murmured and Hotaru shivered, a wave of heat cresting in her stomach as she caught a reflection of herself in his one cascaded silver eye.

She looked at him, long and hard, as if she was daring him, but fear she couldn’t help but squirm under his gaze. Before she knew it, her body was close to his, and his hand trailed down from her face to down her chest, bringing gooseflesh along her skin.

“Hotaru-chan, you fascinate me,” He chuckled, his voice low and promising, as he placed his hand on her chest, where he felt her heartbeat, drumming and quickening. “You still don’t understand.”

“W-What don’t I understand?” Hotaru spoke, her voice wavering but steady, her mask of bravery this close to crumbling.

Muraki still kept that smile of his untouched, and he leaned in slowly, to the point where Hotaru saw his one silver eye clearly, and there was no escaping it.

“That you have the potential to devour the world, and no one will take that away from me.”

Hotaru felt her body seize in his grasp, her eyes widening, and her breathing turning quick. Everything soon blurred and his eyes were the only things clear in her vision. Before she could say anything else, her words fell on deaf ears as he pressed his lips upon hers.

She could only grasp at what he was thinking. Perhaps Muraki always saw fear as _delicious_. Perhaps he found that this girl’s to be unlike anything he had tasted. Perhaps, to him, The Soldier of Saturn tasted like sugared ginger, sweet and spicy, the loveliest contrast across his tongue, and he craved more.

His hands roamed all over her, from her chest to her torso to the juncture of her thighs, and she struggled, almost thrashing, but he held her still, and she couldn’t break free. His kiss was harsh, possessive, bruising, and she swore that he tasted of rotten peaches; both sweet as fruit and filled with poison.

She felt something build in her, the wave of heat rising from deep in her belly, twisting again, and she convulsed by his hand. Her tongue still held the acrid taste of his kiss, and bitter blood overflowed.

 Those were the last things she taste upon her lips before everything disappeared, fading to white. She then fell back, being lifted up back to the open surface, from what couldn’t and wouldn’t let her go.  


End file.
